A Song of Hope

On the final days of Advent, the Church places on Mary’s lips a hymn that teaches us how to wait for Christ. The hymn is known as the Magnificat (Lk 1:46–56). This is not a quiet lullaby but a bold proclamation of what God is doing in Mary’s time, now, and forever.

Mary praises God not for what she has achieved, but for what God has done: “The Almighty has done great things for me” (Lk 1:49). It is a reading well placed in these last days of Advent. It reminds us that salvation begins with God’s initiative and not our own. While we often speak of “getting ready for Christmas,” in truth Christmas is a gift we receive. I wonder if we truly, deeply appreciated that we would be more ready to join Mary and proclaim, “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord.

But the Magnificat also reminds us to not be complacent because the hymn reveals God’s great reversal. He lifts the lowly, fills the hungry, and scatters the proud. As we await the birth of Christ, Mary teaches us that God’s coming always disrupts injustice and restores dignity. So powerful was the message that governments banned the public recitation, singing, or display of the Magnificat because they found its message politically or socially threatening (Guatemala in the 1980s | Argentina in the later 1970s and early 1980s). God’s preferential concern for the poor was seen as a subversive message during a time of political violence and repression.

Advent hope is not pious prayer but is meant to be a song of Hope that has the power to transform.

But perhaps most importantly, Mary reminds us to anchor our present moments in God’s ancient promises: “He has remembered his promise of mercy” (Lk 1:54). In these last days before Christmas, the Magnificat assures us that God is faithful. What He promised to Israel, He fulfills in Christ.

As we prepare for the Lord’s coming, may Mary’s song become our own—one of trust, humility, and joyful expectation.

Isaiah During the Night

By tradition and familiar naming, each Christmas eve, Catholic churches and communities celebrate a “Midnight Mass.” Technically the title of the Mass in the Roman Missal is “Mass During the Night” and by rule may not start before 10 pm and must be finished by 2 am.  Hence the question, “what time is Midnight Mass” is actually a good question. But that aside, the first reading at the Midnight Mass is from the Prophet Isaiah.

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone.

You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing, as they rejoice before you as at the harvest, as people make merry when dividing spoils. For the yoke that burdened them, the pole on their shoulder, and the rod of their taskmaster you have smashed, as on the day of Midian. For every boot that tramped in battle, every cloak rolled in blood, will be burned as fuel for flames. For a child is born to us, a son is given us; upon his shoulder dominion rests. They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace. His dominion is vast and forever peaceful, from David’s throne, and over his kingdom, which he confirms and sustains by judgment and justice, both now and forever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this!  (Isaiah 9:1-6)

In formatting the reading (above) I intentionally separated the first verse from the remainder of the reading in order to draw your attention to this question: who are the people who walked in darkness that now see a great light? For that answer we need only turn back one chapter – Isaiah 8.

The bulk of chapter 8 is words of judgment for King Ahaz who has chosen to align himself with the Assyrians rather than God and to ignore the signs of God’s presence (see Isaiah 7:14: “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign; the young woman, pregnant and about to bear a son, shall name him Emmanuel. ” ) Ahaz has good reasons to fear the Assyrians. Assyria is in the process of taking over the world as it was known then and Israel (the northern tribes) had already fallen – and fallen into hard times. Isaiah describes what a traveler through the North lands would witness: “he will pass through it hard-pressed and hungry, and when hungry, shall become enraged, and curse king and gods. He will look upward, and will gaze at the earth, but will see only distress and darkness, oppressive gloom, murky, without light.” (8:21-22)

King Ahaz was right to fear Assyria, but he should have had better reasons to trust in the Lord.

In Isaiah 8:23, the Prophet proclaims the promise of salvation under a new king, one not like Ahaz, but one worthy as a successor to the line of King David. The prophet writes: “There is no gloom where there had been distress. Where once he degraded the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, now he has glorified the way of the Sea, the land across the Jordan, Galilee of the Nations.” (Isa 8:23) Zebulun and Naphtali are in the north, under Assyrian rule.  In other words, the opening verse of our Midnight Mass reading is to the people of the North living under the crushing oppression of Assyria: The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. (Isa 9:1)

This sets the stage for a dramatic shift in imagery and mood that comes in verse 2. Out of the depths of oppression, depression, war, and separation from God, all symbolized by the presence of darkness, comes assurance. The following verses signal the promise of a new king, a coronation hymn of sorts, one who will come from the royal Davidic line, who will bring light and life and hope to a suffering people. 

His dominion is vast and forever peaceful, from David’s throne, and over his kingdom, which he confirms and sustains by judgment and justice, both now and forever.” (Isa 9:6)

It is a prophetic promise of a future reality that will be made possible because of God’s never ending love for God’s people. The reading is a statement of faith, trust, and gratitude for what the Lord has already done. Grounded in this certainty makes the words of promise and future hope believable. While it appears that the powers of this world have a firm hold, God’s power will have the final victory.

Situating Isaiah in its political, historical, and geographical context might better witness to its meaning for Christians beyond the level of foretelling or prophesy as we tend to think about it, especially when it comes to the expectations of the coming Christ. In other words, what might happen when Isaiah is not only heard as proof of the fulfillment of God’s promises about the coming of the Messiah but as testimony as to the faithfulness of God – a characteristic that is at the heart of who God is? Then we can be more deeply aware that God is not just about future plans but present promises here and now. In the midst of that which creates despair and darkness, God’s light shines as that which is the fulfillment of all that we need and everything that we wish could be. 

On Christmas Eve, when candles burn bright to witness God’s light that shines in all of our darkness, we are reminded that this is not just a claim for tonight, or because of Jesus, but points to the nature of who God is and always has been. When the candles are extinguished, the lights put away, and the decorations stored until next year, this promise is indeed what we will need to journey into the days and years ahead.


Image credit: Prophet Isaiah, Mosaic, Right of Lunette, South Wall of Presbytery, Basilica of San Vitale | PD-US | scripture image from Canva CC-0